


The Roommate From Hell

by SofiaWrite



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Carmilla - Freeform, Cat Carmilla, F/F, F/M, Horror, Mystery, catmilla
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SofiaWrite/pseuds/SofiaWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla rushes to patch up her past mistakes and enemies from getting in the way of her future. While, Laura tries to survive the onslaught of murder and mystery brought on by the dark past of the vampire. Carmilla and Laura learn a thing or two about friendship, love and trust as they team up with the local genius and the group mom, LaFontaine and Lola Perry to try and defeat the mystery that started the day Carmilla decided to break the rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Roommate From Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!   
> You all have no idea how excited I am to post this. I have never felt more motivated in my life and I just feel like writing and writing till my fingers bleed or my computer breaks.   
> If you guys have any questions about the work, feel free to message me on my tumblr  
> sofiawrite.tumblr.com  
> OR E-mail me at   
> sofiawrite21@gmail.com  
> I look forward to all your comments and suggestions! :)  
> \- Sofia

Sunlight eases its way through the cracks and tears of the old, dirty and yellowish newspapers taped to the bedroom window. The rays smoothly glide over the floor and rise on the single bed with crumpled white sheets covering a live form lying still facing the covered glass of the window. The brightness passes on to the floor again and hitches upward hitting the white door adjusted in the matching coloured frame nailed to the blank cream coloured walls. Small specks of dust mingle with each other in the sunlight as if celebrating a joyous occasion.

The soft maple wood bed creaks in unison with the spring mattress which is neatly devoured in dark grey covers. The white sheets readjust as the sleeping figure rolls over, subconsciously, to face the door. It is as if the yellow orange light somehow burned the skin it touched. The live form sighs and once again falls still.

The bright light previously shining on the white skin, now, burns vividly on the tangled dark hair. The hair is adjusted in a presently loose ponytail secured with a red rubber band. The sleeping figure crinkles its nose as the loose strands slowly slide their way out of the sunlight on to the smooth skin. The slick black streaks settle themselves on the figure’s face and neck, irritating the epidermis in process.

Disturbed by the movement, the dozing form turns onto its back, revealing a long, smooth neck. The muscles stretch to meet the partially covered clavicles as a see through white V-neck covering the breasts. The top barely hanging on to the smooth caramel buds. Small pimple like, almost invisible bumps surround the marked skin of almond coloured nipples. A few tiny brown hairs circle the teat, while the sheets hide the rest of the form.

As the sun descends higher in the limitless sky, more rays – uninvitingly – make their way into the room.

Unable to block the brightness any longer, the taped newspaper dejectedly lets the sun rays penetrate itself and further inside the closed off room.

The light brightens the woman’s face and her sharp features come into view. Her smooth skin illuminates radiance.

Her dark brown eyebrows are perfectly plucked and her long eyelashes kiss the skin on her defined cheekbones with utmost softness. She has a perfectly sculptured nose and pink lips, dry from the night’s sleep and a strong jaw line. The small details come into view as more light shines on her face.

One of the rays slithers its way directly on top of the sleeping woman’s eyelids, turning the darkness in front of her eyes into the harsh colour of anger.

The woman furrows her brows and opens her eyes to the uninvited bright heat.

In spite of her unwelcoming demeanour towards the sun’s glare, her dark black eyes looks nothing but radiant, like the sun itself.

Although the woman had awakened she makes no move to leave her comfort zone. Eyes glazed, she stares at the white ceiling without blinking. It was as if she were deluding herself that she never woke up.

After what seemed like five minutes but could have been hours, the woman moves her arm backwards to raise herself up. She sits with her back to the headboard, the rear of her head touching the wall behind her. Looking to her right, she checks the time on the black digital clock set atop a small, square shaped wooden table with a single drawer.

7:45 A.M.

* * *

 

Laura grunts as she struggles with the door knob to her apartment. Holding six grocery bags looped on her arms and the house keys in her mouth, her balance wobbles.

She could put groceries on the floor but Laura Hollis would not be Laura freaking Hollis if she were anything less than persistent.

Carrying all the groceries by herself in one single trip was just how she did things.

Laura sighs as her dark brown hair fall in front of her chestnut coloured eyes. She huffs forcefully again to try and blow them away from her face.

“ _What an inconvenience._ ”she grunts.

Her struggling movements falter for a brief second as the thought of shaving off her entire head flickers in her mind, followed by the horrifying mental imagery.

Opening her mouth to let the keys free fall to the floor, the 19 year old lifts one of the bags to her face and holds it within her teeth. Finally with her free hand, that still has two bags barely hanging from the wrist; she manages to twist the knob to the dark brown wooden door.

Once inside, she puts down the groceries, gasping audibly at the light red marks covering her fore arms.

Her dad would not have approved of her actions and her ever present stubbornness.

While concluding severe nerve damage leading to weeks’ worth of bed rest and the impact it will have on her cat, Chubb’s life, she notices the two dark brown travel size luggage bags resting on her black leather sofa.

Breaking away from one of her dramatic inner monologues, which are more frequent than necessary, Laura chews on her bottom lip in thought. 

She moves further inside the living room.

Realizing that today her new roommate was supposed to move in, the five foot tow inch short stature sighs in relief.

Eliminating the possibility of a serial killer and the mental image of her chopped up body parts being stuffed into the luggage bags, Laura wonders what her new roommate would be like.

Her ever so lovely and ever so gay landlord, Elliot, had helped her find a new roommate with only mild complaining – the first time.

This time around he made sure to include the new edition to the family, Chubbs and the cat’s unflattering antics when scavenging for a new housemate for Laura.

Betty had been her first roommate. They were both freshmen in Silas University.

Laura’s first meeting with her had been disastrous.

The first day in her dorm room, which was located outside the campus, Laura suffered from a mild panic attack due to the unfamiliar surroundings. She hadn’t realized she was in the middle of a panic attack till she felt tears sliding down her cheeks in an even pace. Her knees had gone wobbly and she had slowly started seeing black dots when suddenly a strong yet gentle pair of hands had held her from her upper arms and guided Laura back her feet.

Next thing she knew, she was sitting on the same black leather couch being hushed gently by a girl slightly taller than her. Betty’s silky blonde hair had been tightly tied in a bun and she was wearing a white shirt which was neatly tucked in navy blue skinny jeans.

“Hey Laura, look at me please.” Laura had wondered how the stranger knew of her. Nonetheless, she had met eyes with her. Her appearance reminded Laura of synchronized swimmers.

“My name is Betty and I am your roommate.” Oh, so she wasn’t a stalker.

“Laura, I need you to focus on my voice please. Hey, hey look at me. You are okay. It’s okay.” Betty hushed her while gently rubbing her upper arms. “Just ride it out, sweetheart. I am right here, okay? I need you to breathe, Laura. Could you do that for me, please? Breathe. Yes, just like that. Take it easy … good, good … There we go.”

After, Laura’s panic attack had ended; Betty had held her till she had fully regained herself.

Both of them formed a quick friendship after that.

Unfortunately for Betty, Laura decided to buy a cat to keep herself company in a new and unfamiliar place.

Just a week in, Chubbs had chewed off three of Betty’s high heels, kept scratching her door from outside in the middle of the night and sat on her face several times while she slept.

Laura had spent the whole week apologizing half-heartedly. However, “so sorry” lost its effect after she muttered it for the hundredth time in a day.

As her bad luck would have it – which Betty often blamed on the black cat – Laura’s roommate left before the first semester could even end.

While stacking the groceries on top of the kitchen counter, Laura spots a yellow post it note stuck to the counter top with something scribbled on it with red ink.

“Hey.

-   Your new roommate.”

“Well, that’s… short?” Laura furrows her dirty blonde brows in curiosity as she turns over the piece of paper expecting more.

A pinch of disappointment settles down in her stomach as she sighs audibly.

She had been really excited to share her apartment with someone who didn’t have a problem with loud and obnoxious pets.

Laura loved meeting new people. She adored the way people talked about things they had a deep passion for.

Laura could listen to a person talk about their day and feelings with an unwavering attention. She admired herself for her ability to flatter a person by remembering tiny details about their likes or dislikes.

She considered her social skills one of her greatest strengths.

So, when she reads the anti-climactic note on the counter, she is filled with worry.

“What if her personality is just as apathetic as her note?”

But before Laura had the chance to drown herself in several different scenarios of her first meet and greet with the new housemate, Chubbs unexpectedly jumps on top of the counter to greet her.

Laura lets out a little shriek of terror and flinches away from the stealthy feline.

“OH! FUU- Really, Chubbs, really?!”

Not caring for Laura frightened cry, Chubbs moves in closer and puts her head on the girl’s shoulder.

Laura had named her cat Chubbs because she thought it sounded adorable. Also, for some reason the name reminded of her bean bag chairs.

However, as soon as she had told her best friends, Lafontaine and Perry, both of them had fallen eerily silent for a brief moment. After that, Lafontaine had burst out laughing to the point they had tears in their eyes while Perry had just stared wide-eyed at Laura with mild disgust as if she had said something heinous.

To this day, Laura stays oblivious as to what was so funny about ‘Chubbs’.

Laura smiles and gently pats the black cat’s head.

“Hey buddy, did you miss me? Sorry I was gone so early. But I would rather have a task as tedious as grocery shopping to be out of the way before my Saturday TV show marathon with Laf and Perry. And – oh no! Chubbs! WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Laura shrieks in horror as she sees a red rubber band around Chubbs long tail.

Heart thumping, she tries to remember if she ever possessed a rubber band of the same kind. Maybe it was hers. Or maybe-

“Were you in the new girl’s room?!” Laura yells at the cat as if expecting an answer.

Instead of answering, obviously, the cat hops down from the counter slowly while keeping its eyes on Laura the whole time.

“CHUBBS!”

The cat takes one look at Laura’s angry and terrified demeanour before rushing off to hide under the black leather couch.

Instead of continuing yelling at the cat as if it were to answer, Laura hurriedly steps out of the kitchen and runs toward the spare bedroom she had kept intact for her new roommate.

The spare bedroom which was now someone else’s room with their personal possessions in it. Which was now probably tarnished with a lot of torn and broken things in it.

Before, Laura could rush into the bedroom to examine and fix the damage that had been done, the doorbell to her apartment rings.

Her new –soon to be ex- roommate.

“Oh no… no, no, no. Chubbs, why?” Laura cries desperately.

She hears a soft meow from under the couch and rolls her eyes.

“Apologizing isn’t going to fix the things you broke, buddy. What were you thinking? You know what, no, I am not doing this with you again.”

Laura inhales deeply to calm herself down.

Laura didn’t want to be having a panic attack every time she met her new roommate.

She fixes her hair as she walks toward the door with faux confidence.

Taking a final deep breath, Laura takes a one last glace at the cat peeking out from under the couch and opens the door to greet the person on the other side.

For a split second, her eyes widen and her chest slightly rises from the air inhaled by the soft gasp. Then, ever so slowly her tight nervous grip on the doorknob loosens. Her arm falls to her side and her knees gravely touch the floor.

Laura’s body hits the cold wooden floor with a loud thump and everything turns a dark, terrifying shade of black.

* * *

 

Carmilla hisses in anger as she locks the door to a bathroom stall rather forcefully.

The stall and the rest of the bathroom are painted all white. It is kept squeaky clean and looks completely sanitized. The cream tiled floor shines proudly reflecting the long fluorescent lights installed on the matching coloured ceiling.

The dark haired girl wrinkles her nose at the harsh smell of sanitizers and bleach wafting inside the room.

Carmilla is holding a cell phone in her left hand. She bites the inside of her cheek as if figuring out her jumbled up thoughts. She brings it up and looks at the electronic device, waiting for something.

The device is a navy blue and silver coloured flip phone with a little antenna on the top. The phone looks beaten up and there are visible scratches on the camera lens.

Her dark eyes harden and she curls her upper lip, staring hard at the phone in her hand.

With an upward swipe using her thumb she opens it up. Her dark stare lessens in intensity and her furrowed brows ease when she sees the lock screen.

It is a picture of Laura laying on top a little mountain of snow in her Doctor Who pyjamas with her eyes closed and a smile on her face.

Laura’s nose seemed dark pink in the picture and Carmilla wondered if she had gotten grounded by her dad for going out and actually laying on top of the snow in just her night suit.

Before Carmilla could get pulled into her thoughts of Laura, which are frequent, the phone in her hand vibrates.

Her gentle smile disappears. She purses her lips and stares hard at the seven digits lighting up on the screen for another couple of seconds before hitting the green button.

Bringing up the phone to her ear, Carmilla interrupts the caller’s greeting. 

“If the situation repeats itself again, this will be on you. And you should know by now that my mother is not the mercy type.” The tall woman spits out into the phone.

“I am sorry, I thought she was dead.”

The caller is a woman. Her voice sounds husky with a hint of sadness laced in it.

“Well, she isn’t. Next time make sure the job is done before fleeing the scene of crime!” Carmilla whisper-yells.

She raises herself on her tip toes to peak out from the stall to make sure she was still alone.

“I am sorry, Carm. I know how much trouble this situation is causing you.”

The dark haired girl sighs as she brings herself down to her natural height.

The woman on the phone sounded genuinely upset so Carmilla decides to be a little gentle on her.

“Apology accepted, I guess.” She shrugs to herself. “Anyways, I have to go before she wakes or one of her mortal minions barges in sobbing violently.”

“Once again, I am really sorry. Take care of yourself, please.”

“You too, Victoria and get the job done or you know the consequences. Even one slip up could cost you your life. Keep that in mind the next time you decide to let your victim survive.”

Carmilla cautions the woman as a farewell.

Victoria Addams had been working for Carmilla for a little over a decade now. Carmilla had been the one to transition her and ever since then Victoria had been appointed as the hitman. The dark eyed girl have made use of her personal assassin every time a situation from her past had risen to complicate her present life.

Her present life, which she was still trying to piece together neatly so she could finally have some years to herself.

Carmilla closes the lid to the phone when she hears a steady beep on the other line and comes out of the bathroom stall.

However, instead of leaving the bathroom once the call had ended, she flips open the phone once again. Carmilla smiles lightly as she looks at the phone screen.

“You are a tough nut to crack, Laura Hollis.”

* * *

 

Laura crinkles her nose when she smells the strong odour of hand sanitizers. The air around her feels thick and heavy. Her surroundings are filled with several different kinds of scents that combine together into a distinctive stench that makes the short girls stomach feel upset.

However, all the different mixtures of the unpleasant odours were nothing compared to the heaviness she felt in her head. The sharp pain in her right temporal lobe attacked her senses harder than the smell.

As if Laura’s brain was trying to punish her for the pain, she imagined a mysterious woman with long black hair and even darker eyes trying to hammer a nail inside her brain. Laura pictured a shiny necklace swinging hypnotically in front of her eyes as she writhed quietly in pain.

The silver necklace was expertly shaped as the 22nd letter of the alphabet. “V”.

She tries screaming at the woman but somehow every time the air in her lungs would always get sucked out.

Laura tries to look at the woman causing her immense pain so she can try begging her to stop. But when she finally gets a clear view of her face, all the pleas completely die out in her throat.   

As her throat closes up, she hears a crack and her attacker looks down into her eyes with triumph and no sign of regret.

The woman yanks out the nail with ease using the other side of the hammer and Laura watches in horror as her skulls leaks out a mucus-like substance and coats the white pillow, slithering down onto the sheets.

As darkness slowly creeps up and dominates her vision, Laura only echo’s a single word.

“Mom?”


End file.
